


Ink Critter

by TheTerrorDome



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Altars, Bendy plushie, No rats were sacrificed in the making of this movie, rat is only friend, sammy having lots of issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-26 07:35:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20926496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTerrorDome/pseuds/TheTerrorDome
Summary: Sammy comes across an unusual specimen in the Music Department and forms an attachment.





	Ink Critter

**Author's Note:**

> Day six of inktober, Sammy's a rat man.

The first time Sammy saw the rat he thought he had finally, truly lost it. There were no animals in the studio. Only the ink monsters and lost souls. He was so surprised at the sight of the little rodent that before he could grab it, it skittered away. 

Sammy brushed it off. Until he saw the rat again. Now in the music department hall. Sammy’s hall. The rat scurried along the walls with Sammy following close behind. Once in Sammy’s office, he slammed the door shut and ripped down the torn up curtains (the windows were all boarded up anyway), stuffing them under the door. The rat hid under Sammy’s desk. Turning away from the door, Sammy clasped his hands together. “What gracious act of righteousness, my Lord!”

Bendy had to be responsible. His Lord worked in mysterious ways and a creature from the outside world (is there an outside world?) was obviously an act of benevolent power. 

Approaching the rat, Sammy moved as slowly as he could. The rat skittered back and forth sniffing the floor. It was covered in ink but Sammy could still see its pink nose. 

“Come here, little sheep,” Sammy said. 

He picked up the rat holding it clasped between his hands delicately. “How did you get all the way down here? Did my Lord send you?” Sammy kicked the tattered curtains away from the door and walked down the hallway. “You will make a nice sacrifice, I think,” Sammy whispered. 

The halls were empty. The creatures knew better than to disturb the prophet. Lest they end up the sacrificial lamb. 

The rat squirmed in Sammy’s hands. It was inky, but Sammy couldn’t tell if it had succumbed to the demon yet. Its eyes were shiny black and though stained, the rat’s paw pads were pink and soft.

“Our Lord works in mysterious ways, but you came to me for a reason and I must honor him.”

Kicking its hind paws against Sammy’s palm, the rat craned its head back at him. 

“I don’t necessarily want to sacrifice you, but I’m his prophet. I want him to notice me.” 

The rat squeaked sniffing Sammy’s finger. 

Candles were flickering in the ritual room illuminating the wood beams and shiny metal chains. His good chair recently destroyed, Sammy looked around for means to keep the rodent stil. With a huff, Sammy asked, “I don’t suppose you’d just keep still for me, hm?” The rat squirmed shoving its head between Sammy’s fingers. Sammy went into the recording room shutting the door behind him.

Setting the rat on his Bendy Altar, Sammy rested his elbows on either side of the table. The rat looked up at him before turning to grab at the objects on the table near it. 

“He is magnificent, isn’t he?”

Sammy moved the arm of a Bendy plushie, the rat grabbed at it with its little pink hands. Sammy smiled. 

“It’s nice having someone to talk to.”

The rat climbed into the lap of the Bendy plushie.

“I talked to someone before but we recently had a falling out.”

The rat squeaked, pawing at the plush bow tie of the toy.

“He entirely overreacted. Now it’s just too uncomfortable to visit.”

It pressed the fabric of the bow tie between its paws and brought the fabric to its muzzle. 

“It stunk in the sewers anyways, so it’s his loss.”

Sammy touched the tip of the rat’s tail lightly. “You aren’t unreasonable though,” he said, “you understand the glory of our Lord.” Picking up the rat again, Sammy gasped.

“You chewed on his tie!” he cried out bringing the rat close to his chest. “Bad boy! Bad! Respect our savior! It is because of him you even still breathe!”

The rat struggled in Sammy’s grip and he loosened his hold around its middle. Looking into its little black eyes, Sammy pressed his lips into a thin line. He pet the rat’s head. 

“It’s okay, you just have to learn,” he said quietly, “you can be my disciple. Prophets need people to listen to them. And rats too.”

Pressing the rat to his chest, he held its bottom with one hand and pet it with the other. He felt an uncomfortable ache settle in his gut. He tried to ignore it but squeezing the soft pink paws and staring into the rats little black eyes made it only deepen. A feeling that he had experienced this before, but what was “this?” The rat squeaked and Sammy found himself smiling. Whatever he was feeling, he could at least claim progress in his prophecies. He’d found his first little listener.


End file.
